


Alone For Eternity

by painty



Series: Across Time and Space [4]
Category: Diary of a Wimpy Kid, The X-Files
Genre: Across Time and Space (ATAS), Angst, Beer, Bit of an injury, Depression, F/M, Grief, Guilt, I torture all my characters though, Loneliness, Lots of sad thinking, M/M, Mildly describing self-harm, Mulder Torture, Mulder is an alcoholic, Sadness, Self destruction, Thoughts of Suicide, emotional torture, he also smokes, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painty/pseuds/painty
Summary: Mulder tries to drink away his guilt after breaking up with Rodrick and after Diana leaves him once again. It doesn't work. Mid-shot of Across Time and Space (3).





	Alone For Eternity

Kinda shitty cause I was tired as fuck last night and just finished it today with zero motivation whatsoever. Enjoy anyway yeah.

Mulder tries to wash away his guilt after he breaks up with Rodrick and Diana leaves him once again. It doesn't work.

Mid-Across Time and Space. Hasn't happened yet, just testing out shit cause angst and yeah.

The pain was unbearable.

Mulder let the alcohol slide down his throat, sinking into his stomach as he stood hunched over the counter. The flask was gripped tightly in his bruised hands, the FBI Agent feeling like he was about to topple over. He grabbed his head and set his drink down, stumbling backward and slipping, his body crashing into the ground. A groan left Mulder's lips as he felt blood trickle down his head, the brown-haired man's vision becoming fuzzy. He could faintly hear thunder rumbling in the distance, all light mostly cut off from the darkness of his apartment and the clouds covering the sky outside.

His shattered heart pounded inside of his chest. His body felt as if it weighed twenty tons, weakness spreading throughout his limbs. Mulder couldn't even bring himself to stagger back to his feet. His green eyes fluttered open and closed for a few seconds, the pain beating against his head and the blood turning into a small pool around his left arm. Mulder gritted his teeth as he gently touched the back of his head, pulling his hand back as more pain shot through. The FBI Agent could already feel the bump and the blood running down, knowing that was going to leave another injury. Joy.

After another ten minutes of lying on the floor numbly, Mulder finally was able to pull himself up and quickly fell onto the couch, the cushions not as welcoming as he wished they were. Though, they were much more comfortable than hard, kitchen tile floor. Drowsiness overcame Mulder and his eyes closed. However, upon remembering about how much beer he'd just downed, adrenaline rushed through his veins and caused his eyes to spring wide open. He couldn't sleep yet. He'd just finished the whole can.

That numbness was fading away again. Mulder wanted to go back to grab the flask but truly didn't want to fall again. He was too tired. Though maybe he'd smash his head against the side of the counter and die, bleed out to death. That would be great. Then he wouldn't have to take his own life himself. Because if this was the pain he was going to be feeling the rest of his life... Mulder wanted no part of it. Shit this was even worse than when Scully got with Colin. Because this... this was true heartache. It throbbed through his whole body and stabbed him from the inside out, breaking apart his heart and tearing open his insides. It hurt. It hurt so badly.

Mulder never should've broken up with Rodrick. That was the cause of most of this; the love of his life was gone. Most likely never wanted to see him again, of course, Mulder probably.... well he was such a pussy he would want to see Rodrick again but that wasn't the case. The guilt was growing so horrible that he'd resorted to throwing his hands through glass, slamming his head into walls, doing anything to distract himself.

And then there was Diana. Mulder had let them slip back into their ways. All she did was piss him off, so he just left the apartment for hours at a time to do whatever... go to bars, drive around. Didn't matter. Mulder was tired of being manipulated into sex. He was tired of being slapped around again. He was tired of being abused and feeling like shit about himself but he still kept Diana around because she was the only thing left in his life. And the brown-haired man wanted to hold onto that as long as he possibly could. Even though she had convinced Mulder to break up with Rodrick, to be with her instead, he... he still... he couldn't say loved. That would be horrible. But maybe he did. God Mulder really didn't know.

But then she'd left. Just as she always had. No note, no message, no final words of goodbye. Nothing. Gone. Everything gone. And it made Mulder want to kill himself more than ever before. He'd tried to drive his car into a building but swerved away the last minute after realizing he would most likely kill other innocent people if he did that. So Mulder decided against it. Then he went back to work and Skinner put him on a fucking temporary leave for emotional shit and took away his gun. Now Mulder couldn't kill himself and he felt worse than ever without anything to do, anything to distract him.

Rodrick was gone. Scully was gone. Diana was gone. His parents were gone. Samantha was gone. Mulder saw no reason to live but didn't want to slit his wrists because he just didn't want that much pain. Pussy. God he fucking hated himself. All the time. So now he was living alone once more, no one ever checking up on him, not visiting anyone, not working. Mulder was simply alone with his thoughts, his dark apartment, and his beer. 

Well. Scully. Scully had come to check on him, once. But he'd screamed at her to never come back again (this was not too long after Diana had left) and she hadn't. Scully hadn't even fought back. It broke his heart. It broke every part of him and he wanted to come crying to her on her doorstep but was not going to do that.

Rodrick. Yes. There was Rodrick, of course. But Mulder didn't see Rodrick anymore. After breaking up with him, even after Diana left... the FBI Agent never went out. He hardly even ate, just drank. And drank. And drank. Never even thinking about what he was doing to his body but Mulder honestly couldn't care less. He was done with everything and would allow himself to die in any way that didn't involve too much pain. So that was starving himself to death, or drinking himself to death. Either one was fine.

Mulder was feeling exactly like he had when he put Colin in a wheelchair. Well, worse. Of course worse. So he tried to numb away every shitty feeling but could hardly even do that anymore. Maybe Mulder wanted to feel guilt. He truly did deserve it so might as well let it destroy him. Oh fuck. But he didn't want it. Because it hurt so bad. Worse than getting stabbed. Worse than getting shot. Worse than anything he'd ever felt before in his life.

He had nothing left. No one left. Just a waste of space, as he usually had been but.. this time he had hurt people. Emotionally. Because of his own problems. And that's what made him feel so horrible. If Mulder had just taken it all everyone would be fine but no. No he had to take it out on other people. Rodrick. Scully. Colin. Diana. Skinner. Pretty much everyone.

Fuck. He let his face fall into his hands and sighed heavily. Always what he was feeling without enough alcohol in his body. So Mulder forced himself to stand up and stumbled back over to the counter, grabbing another beer from the fridge and gulping it in about two sips. He crumpled it up and threw it in the trash, grabbing another and finishing it off as quickly as possible. That fuzziness returned and he took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting his body slide to the floor. Everything hurt, physically, but hey, that was better than what he'd been feeling.

Much better. He didn't even want to let himself think of any of that again. Just get drunk all the time. Maybe that would work. Hopefully. Mulder would at least try it. And if it did work, well.. he'd just keep doing that until he was able to go back to work. And if work didn't help him, then... then he'd at least have his gun to finish him off.

One thing to look forward to.


End file.
